Saturday, November 14, 2009

***Add my usual Family disclaimer here. If you don't want to be involved, please stop reading***

It felt like my stomach had bottomed out.I was chatting with family members, and somehow my stepfather was mentioned. When I expressed disgust at his name, they asked why I disliked him so. My response was "Well, anyone would be disgusted with a person after what he did to me". They gazed at me blankly, and it dawned on me that they had no idea what I was talking about.I could feel my head spinning, my visions was blurred, and my heart almost stopped beating. I whispered that he had ruined the word beautiful for me. I said he hurt me, and made me feel like a simple piece of meat, who was only there for a man's whim. They asked me to tell them why. I started at the beginning on my memories of him.My step-father was in my life as long as I could remember. He and my mom met in a group setting, and began dating when I was about 4 years old. They married in a civil union in our own home with a Judge present when I was 8. He left when I was 13. That's a huge portion of my life with him in it.When it was all over, I was still young. I had no comprehension of just how deeply this would affect me. I was still a child, and wanted more than anything to just forget about it, like I had done for so long. I wish someone would have explained it until I understood what it would mean to me as a person...but I can only move forward, they say.I remember speaking to police about it, and being at the station with my mom over my shoulder. When they asked if I wanted to press charges I heard a little voice say that there was no reason for that, because nothing had really happened. I let that voice tell me this was all being blown out of proportion, and that I was being over-dramatic...like a typical 13 year old girl. I listened to it, and denied pressing charges.At the time I had only a few memories, and not a whole lot to go on. I remember more of what happened now, and since this has come to light again, am considering going ahead with charges.I curious now, in the aftermath of that conversation, just how many of my relatives know what happened to me. It's true though, that our demographic has sexual abuse rampant in it's history, so I know I'm not alone in it...but I want to know now, how many of my family members were involved with this particular man, and how many knew. I'm burning. I had two aunts and an uncle live with us for a time, and we're all rather estranged. Sure, the love is there, but since the time of the split, they seem to really be more distant. We were the best of friends as children.It hurts to know that no one may know. It hurts because I know now, what my family must have thought of my behavior, and me, in the aftermath of the split. I was experimenting with drugs a small amount before they split, to escape pain. Afterwards I was in a daze nearly the whole time. I chose to keep myself high, and I began binge drinking. I began having random sex with random people. I was even arrested for shoplifting. I truly went on a downward spiral, and I can clearly see that in reflection, though at the time I had no idea what I was doing, or why. I ruled over my mother. I'm ashamed to admit that, but it's true.That first year, after I came back from running away and making sure he was gone, I don't remember that Christmas following. I do remember that that New Year's I was alone, and invited friends over. I spent the major part of the evening being too high to move, and the rest of the night having sex with my boyfriend.My mother spent the holidays and such at my great aunt's house. I later found out that he had moved in with her for the time being. I can only speculate that they were hoping things would calm down, and that he would be allowed to move back in, because during the time he was there, he had at least 2 visits with me. I always made sure we were never alone together, but I rarely had anything to say to him, and despised even being in the same room with him.All in all, I've been thinking a lot. I'm trying my hardest to find the best way to approach this. Charges, asking the question no one wants to answer, and finding out the reason why no one may know what happened to me. I want to know if this changed how people look at me. It's changing the way I look at myself. I'm trying to figure out if this will only hurt people along the way, and if it's worth it to even ask. Is it worth hurting those members that I love most, by asking them the "what happened" and "why" questions? If it is, will I be satisfied with the answers I receive?I've also been trying to explain it to my Mr. It's difficult to admit to him just how much this is consuming me. It's difficult to explain that I don't want to talk about the responsibilities we're facing right now...financial, vehicular, children. I have no space left in my brain for anything but this. My mind is digging. Digging for more memories that I didn't know I had. Digging for more instances to see if anyone else was involved. Digging for the ability to do this with dignity and grace. Digging for courage.

I can only imagine how this has effected you. I think you should be produ of the fact that you are a strong woman and a wonderful mother to your own boys. I know you don't say much about it, but it feels like maybe your mother hasn't been the best mother to you... I hope I have the wrong impression, and that maybe you can turn to her for the answers you need.

About Me

Amber

I am a walking contradiction. I'm honest to a fault, but have learned to filter my thoughts to sting a little less. I'm growing at a glacial pace, and am inviting you to watch. It's about as much fun as watching paint dry, but at least you've got an invitation!